Twisted Smiles
by Videru
Summary: Vegeta's smiles are rare indeed, so Bulma keeps those strange occasions in her mind. Short chapters, written as chronicles from both their points of view that detail the circumstances around Vegeta's rare smiling. Rated M for future chapters.
1. Chronicle 0

_Author's Note:_ Thanks for taking the time to read! This is my first published work, I hope you enjoy it.

This tiny chapter is a sort of introduction in Bulma's perspective, just to give you the gist of the story.

Dragon Ball Z and all its characters are owned by AkiraToriyama, Toei Animation... Blah blah... I own nothing but my ideas. Cheers!

* * *

The Prince of all Saiyans is not a man who smiles easily. Grinning, smirking, and mocking snarls are common on his sharp features, we all know that. But smiling? Rarely.

I tried to convince myself for the longest time that such was the reason for his smiles to be seared into my memory, or for the delicious shiver that ran down my spine and directly into my core the first time I saw one. I tried to fool myself into thinking it was raw fear -not desire!- which rendered me unable to tear my eyes off his upturned lips.

Yes, I so tried to tell myself that every time I saw one after that.

And boy, was I wrong!

The Prince of all Saiyans does smile when something catches his wicked attention. And I was lucky (or unlucky?) to have piqued his interest enough to be a witness to quite a few of his twisted smiles.

 _Bulma Briefs_


	2. Chronicle 1

_Author's Note:_ Thanks for taking the time to read! This is my first published work, I hope you enjoy it. I am not going for a linear plot although there is a sense of sequence to the chapters. Please review if you have any comments or suggestions!

Dragon Ball Z and all its characters are owned by AkiraToriyama, Toei Animation... Blah blah... I own nothing but my ideas. Cheers!

* * *

 _The first time I saw him smile, there was only one thought racing through my mind:_

 _"I'm gonna fucking die!"_

Bulma Briefs

* * *

Krillin's face had always been expressive, leaving no doubt about the exact thoughts in his mind. That tended to get him in awkward situations, especially with the ladies. His easily triggered nosebleeds were a pathetic and dead giveaway too, to say the least. And so here they were: in a strange planet, holding on to a gigantic dragon ball, and gazing upon two of the deadliest soldiers of a murderous intergalactic tyrant. Terror, anxiety, and regret were clear all at once on the bald warrior's face as he wracked his brains for a way out of the situation.

Being the brightest woman on Earth and with two noble prizes to her name, one would think Bulma Briefs would be scheming an escape plan too. Certainly, Krillin was praying for her to be doing so. Except... she was fawning over the green-skinned warrior. Go figure!

 _'My goodness, he is so hot... that perfectly toned body with such a stylized face!'_

Although Vegeta and Zarbon were putting up quite the show, Krillin's attention drifted to Bulma and her odd expression, which was starting to look a hell lot like Master Roshi, drool and all.

"Bulma, are you alright?" Krillin shook her slightly by the shoulders, almost splashing drool all over himself. "Ughh Bulma, you ok?"

"Mmmh... so hot... big arms... delicious lips... thick-"

Krillin uttered a colorful string of curses and chastising remarks but Bulma paid no mind: her mind was solely focused on the ripple of the muscles of that handsome man, wondering how they would tense if she ran her tongue all along them. Shivers were running all over her body, stimulating all the right places and almost making her moan. Being so lost in her fantasy, which now included a hot tub and massage oil, she almost missed the moment Zarbon doubled his size and grew warts all over. What. The. Fucking. Hell.

"Still thinking of smooching him?" Krillin mocked her, wiggling his eyebrows at the giant toad being beaten to a pulp by Vegeta.

"SHUT UP, YOU JERK!"

Now with her fantasy broken, the heiress to Capsule Corp. could focus on the frenzied battle going on before her. Sure, she had been around warriors and massively muscled men since she was a teenager, but this was different. Bulma had never seen anyone fight with such speed and grace, not even Goku. Back on Earth, she had missed the chance to see the battle between her friends and the Saiyans and when told about it, she had assumed the tales of Vegeta's incredible fighting skills had been an exaggeration out of fear. But damn, the man could fight.

Bulma had a soft spot for tall men with long torsos and perfect teeth, making her infatuation with Zarbon -somewhat- understandable. She never imagined she would be impressed by a man who was shorter than herself and with such a compact build, despite his solid muscles. But damn, his body looked so lithe and graceful performing such crude moves. His kicks and punches were all perfectly synchronized, and the speed at which he responded to lightning fast attacks left her speechless. The raw strength and dominance his every move exuded rendered her unable to tear her gaze away. Having a Ph.D. in physics and thorough experience around fighting men, she was well acquainted with the physics of fighting arts and she could state this was no brute banter. It was obvious Vegeta had mastered his body and turned it into a perfectly honed killing machine.

Bulma would've been more comfortable if she had felt a surge of desire down her spine at the sight of such a man. But all she felt was awe and a strange respect at such display of mastery and discipline. Was this what being a prince of a warrior race meant? Even if he was stronger, Bulma doubted Goku could ever duplicate the mastery of skill the Prince of all Saiyans displayed.

"Damn..."

By the end of the battle, Krillin was vaguely aware that Bulma was anxiously biting her lip. But his mind was soon scrambling for a way to distract the murderous alien from his initial intent of killing them and taking the dragon ball. So caught up was he in that he missed Bulma's sharp gasp, which odddly resembled a heated moan.

Basking in his increased power, Vegeta straightened his back and lifted his chin proudly. Nothing would stop him now at the rate his power was growing: he would rule the universe without a doubt. He turned his black gaze in the direction of the sinking green alien, satisfaction surging deep in his chest. Yes, retribution indeed was sweet. Fueled by the feral pride and adrenaline he was still feeling, his lips curled upwards slightly, flashing a hint of perfectly white and sharp teeth. Namek might as well have trembled at the power and pure satisfaction emanating from this man. Then his gaze fell on the cerulean depths of Bulma's eyes, the sight burning a deep mark on her memory.

 _'I'm gonna fucking die!'_


	3. Chronicle 2

_Author's note:_ Thank you all for continuing to read! This chapter is longer, but contains some important background info for the development of the story.

On the last chapter, I mentioned Vegeta is shorter than Bulma and someone pointed out that it is not so. In my opinion, at the beginning Vegeta is pictured as shorter than Bulma, his spiked hair is what makes them look somewhat even. As the series and manga progress, he is depicted as taller and with shorter hair. I think it reflects a lot of his character development. I am going for that feeling here, so please bear with me.

I hope you enjoy it! All comments and suggestions are welcome.

I own nothing about Dragon Ball Z! I'm just a daydreaming fan.

* * *

 _The second smile I remember seeing on Vegeta's face was so fleeting I doubted if it had even been real. But the jolt of pure fear that ran down my spine and settled between my legs told me it was very real._

 _Although I didn't understand back then what those reactions meant, I did realize one thing: that man was dangerous and I had to stay very far from him._

 _Too bad stubbornness runs deep in the Briefs' blood._

 _Bulma Briefs_

* * *

As quickly as the events of Namek had unfolded, they were over. Although there was an air of normalcy after everyone was revived, the loss of Goku was still hard felt. No, he hadn't died, but he might as well have since he refused to be wished back on Earth. Most of the gang was upset about such a selfish wish but Chi Chi had taken it with surprising calm. Gohan seemed to be lost for a few days but soon recovered his good spirits. Good and peaceful times seemed to be ahead.

Except... Bulma knew they wouldn't last. Shortly after Goku's reluctance to return, Vegeta had stolen a spaceship and had flown off after Goku, holding on to his shattered pride and a murderous intent. Bulma should've been relieved but she knew one thing: if Vegeta did not find Goku, he would probably come back to Earth and maybe even kill them all out of spite. Being as the Saiyan prince had taken off without notice, the ship had been unprepared and was not even up to its maximum fuel capacity, which made it improbable that he would find Goku before running short.

Vegeta was reckless, violent, and treacherous, but he was also very smart. Bulma knew as well as the Saiyan that, being a mass murderer for the biggest galactic tyrant, his face was probably known throughout the entire galaxy and many others. He would be wanted in many planets, maybe even with bounties on his head. It would be suicide to stay out there alone, with no allegiance to a greater force to fall back on. As strong as he was, it would be a dangerous call. So his safest option would be to come back to Earth and wait for Goku; the training facilities the Briefs could provide would just be a great bonus. That would also give him time to plan his next move carefully. In short, one thing was very clear to Bulma: Vegeta was coming back. The only question was when.

In the meantime, she would just have to carry on with her life.

"So, should I pick you up on Thursday? The game starts at 7" Yamcha asked in his usual cheerful tone, only to be ignored by his girlfriend. She had been spacing out all through their date. "B? Are you listening?"

"Uhh?" Bulma continued to stare off into the darkening skyline, leaning casually against her convertible sports car. South City's lookout truly had a great view. "Sorry, did you say something?"

Yamcha only sighed when his girlfriend did not even look at him. They had spent a lot of time together after being brought back to life, it was great to enjoy such peace. It seemed like the perfect time to take their relationship to the next step and he was just gathering the courage to do so. The only problem was that Bulma was growing distant even when they saw each other so much. He could tell something was on her mind but for the life of him, he had no clue as to what it was.

"What are you thinking, Bulma?" He snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her close to his chest. She offered no resistance. "What's on your mind?"

"When...?" Bulma trailed off, breaking free and walking up to the lookout handrail. "When do you think Vegeta will come back?"

"What?"

"I mean..." she touched her hair absentmindedly. "He's been gone for too long and I doubt his supplies will last longer. The ship probably needs repairs and gods, who knows if the navigation system still works? I didn't even update the tracking software before he took off!"

Yamcha was gaping like a fish, his blood suddenly cold at Bulma's rambling. This was not the first time she expressed concern over the bastard Saiyan and the whole business was starting to smell fishy.

"Seriously, B?" Bulma turned around at Yamcha's chastising tone. "Why on Earth would you want that crazy bastard to come back? He has no business here on Earth!"

"What the hell is wrong with you? He has nowhere to go! Where else do you propose he goes?" the blue haired scientist was trying hard not to raise her voice. "Now that Freiza is gone, survivors of the races he enslaved will probably seek out his forces and kill them. And from what I understand, Vegeta eliminated countless planets. Of course there's people out there who want him dead! Haven't you thought about that?"

"Well, let them kill him!"

Shock was the only thing that stopped Bulma's hand mid air, only centimeters away from Yamcha's cheek. What the hell was she thinking? Was she seriously defending that fiend to her loyal boyfriend? She knew Vegeta's return made her anxious, but she hadn't considered the possibility of him staying -or dying- up in space.

"He is an evil murderer" Yamcha spit back in a low voice, too shocked to even raise his tone. Was this seriously happening?

"He... did not kill us back on Namek. He didn't try when he stayed here either"

"Because it was convenient for him!" losing his cool and leaving his surprise behind, the ex-bandit shook his girlfriend by the shoulders. "He does everything for personal gain! He is nothing but a selfish, self-entitled, son of a-"

"ENOUGH!" Bulma pushed him back and stormed up to her car. "You can fly back home, and don't even think of calling me in the next few days. I won't answer"

And with that, the Capsule Corp. heiress slammed her car door and took off at full speed. Yamcha wasn't sure how long he stood there, unable to move. Had this shit seriously happened?

Bulma's hands were shaking the entire ride home. How had this happened? Yamcha's cold words had infuriated her like nothing before, but why? He was right: even though Vegeta had spared her and her friends' lives back on Namek, he hadn't shown any redeeming qualities. He was ruthless, cunning, dangerous, and... alone. Vegeta was alone in the whole universe. Realization suddenly dawned on the scientist: she felt compassion for him. That's why the idea of helping him out wandered in her head so often. Yes, she wanted to do the right thing and help out someone who had known nothing but violence and loss his entire life. Compassion... she could deal with that emotion. And so could Yamcha.

Lifting up a hand to feel the warm summer air, she felt a huge weight off her shoulders. Thoughts of the alien prince had plagued her endlessly but now she understood. If he wanted to come back to Earth, she would welcome him as an ally; if he didn't then he was on his own. She had been so silly, but she would make it right. She would call Yamcha in the morning and make up, and would certainly put all thoughts of the Saiyan aside.

And that's exactly what she had done.

That is, until Vegeta landed back on Earth a couple weeks after the incident, right as Yamcha was having a jealous fit over the short Saiyan.

 _'Goddammit, seriously?! What is that asshole doing here?!'_

A million thoughts raced through Yamcha's mind as he ran to the crash site on the backyard. Why did the arrogant prick have to come back right when his relationship with Bulma was back on track? After the argument on their date at South City's lookout, Bulma had called and apologized, explaining her concern for Vegeta. Although it had made sense and they had put the incident behind, Yamcha was very aware of how thoughts of the prince invaded his girlfriend's mind without her control. And he did not like it one bit. Although the subject hadn't been brought up again, he imagined Bulma still wondered where Vegeta could be as she became increasingly fond of staring off into the sky. The only hope he had was that the prince would either stay in outer space or get killed up there. But hell no, the gods could not be kind enough to keep that insane murderer off the planet. Figures!

As the damaged ship's door opened, two thoughts flooded Yamcha's mind:

1\. How the fuck to keep his girlfriend off Vegeta.  
2\. How to stop the alien killer, whose power level was unfathomable compared to his own, from destroying the planet.

He was right down fucked.

Understandably so, fear was the first thing that hit Vegeta's nose as he climbed off the spaceship. The thick, heavy, delicious smell of utter fear. As he heard the weakling's voice asking him something about the third-class dog, he understood: his return had been undesired AND feared. Oh, this would be amusing.

Vegeta's response was automatic and biting, purely an instinctual retort. He was really getting off on the human's fear. More so as he jumped in front of the scarfaced moron, who seemed about ready to piss his pants. Why was he even daring to address him if he was shaking like a puny worm?

Then he heard the screeching voice of the woman with stupid hair, asking them to stop their banter. The prince did not turn as she rambled some nonsense; something else caught his eye instead. As soon as the meager fighter heard the female's voice, his stance tensed and clear panic flashed in his eyes. Being an experienced killer and torturer, Vegeta recognized the reaction: the moron feared him as a threat to his woman and, most importantly, feared his own inability to keep her safe. And it was perfect.

The Prince of Saiyans could see desperation clearly written on Yamcha's face, and best of all: defeat. Oh it was so perfect! This is how everyone should react to his royal presence: in fear, knowing that their place was under his boot, squirming like worthless maggots at his mercy. And he hadn't even lifted a finger against anybody yet!

For a fraction of a second his thin lips curled upwards, although not offering a peek of his oddly perfect teeth. Being drunk on the fear he evoked, the slightly curved line of his lips widened, offering a shocked blue-haired spectator a tiny window into the prince's egotistical and sadistic drive. The insane bastard was getting off on Yamcha's fear! And she didn't want to think of how this would end for her idiotic boyfriend. Although she would deny it later, she was briefly paralyzed by a jolt of raw fear that shot straight between her legs. Fear, yes, she was feeling fear too. Delicious fear...

Being a true genius, Bulma's mind recovered swiftly and reacted with lightning speed. If fear got this weirdo so high, indifference would sure bring him back down.

Her heart was caught in her throat as she walked up to the short Saiyan and uttered her command. She could barely hear her own words over the rush of her own blood in her ears, but Bulma was confident her tone sounded carefree and dismissive. Judging by the suddenly softened expression on Vegeta's features, she had sounded perfectly unimpressed.

To make it even clearer that she was not intimidated by bravado, Bulma remarked on the prince's unbecoming appearance and even poked his chest plate, just to walk out on him and expecting the Saiyan to follow. And he did.

 _'Who the hell is this hideous wench?!_ ' Vegeta wondered as he was compelled against his better judgment to follow her to what she called a "shower".

Yamcha's eyes had almost bulged out of their sockets throughout the entire exchange. What the flying heck had just happened?! Too shocked to move, he just quietly saw them disappear into the Capsule Corp. compound. This could only end badly.

As the Saiyan Prince continued to follow her silently, Bulma Briefs felt empowered, all trace of her initial terror vanishing into excitement and curiosity. Who in the blasted hell was this man? A dangerous and insane prick, her good sense screamed at her, one she needed to steer clear from. However, her scientific drive surfaced with an alluring question:

 _Wouldn't you like to find out?_


	4. Chronicle 3

A/N: Thanks to those who read, reviewed, and favorited the story. I apologize for the long delay, I've had a lot of work lately. But I will finish this for sure, maybe just a bit slowly.

Thank you for taking the time to read. All comments and suggestions are welcome. I do not own DBZ or any of its characters, only my ideas.

* * *

 _For a while, 'fun' seemed to be a word unknown to the savage Saiyan. Train, eat, sleep, repeat. That's all he knew._

 _Right when I had lost all hope of him having an ounce of enjoyment in life, I saw it: a smile so raw and overpowering that it had to be genuine._

 _The shivers that settled painfully at the pit of my stomach and even lower told me I had to see it again, even if deceit was in order. But..._

 _How was I supposed to know I would be the one deceived?_

 _Bulma Briefs_

* * *

 _Blasted heat._

The blue haired millionaire muttered as her safety goggles rode down her nose for the twentieth time. Don't get it wrong, she loved summertime: cold margaritas, alluring bathing suits, and splashing around. Tightening bolts and welding metal plates under the sun was not how she had envisioned her weekend. Sweat finally made her goggles slip from her nose bridge, causing her to tilt the plate and weld it at an awkward angle.

"Damned heat!" Bulma yelled, kicking the offending eyewear far from her. She tried to pull the crooked metal plate off but only managed to burn through her thick leather gloves, almost searing her palm had she not pulled away quickly. Why was she doing this again...?

Ah, right. Prince of Saiyans, mightiest monkey in all the universe.

Bulma honestly didn't mind repairing the gravity simulator or designing battle bots. Although Vegeta hadn't asked for her help directly, she had been helping her father and soon began enjoying the challenge that it implied. Vegeta mastered each version of the droids with incredible ease, making the young scientist wrack her brains for better designs. Needless to say, repair work had become an almost daily ritual for the past two months.

Although her schedule was increasingly tighter, Bulma didn't mind helping. Most of her friends were under the impression that the Saiyan threw his fists in the air and ranted to get his way around Capsule Corp. but in reality he was quite composed, if a little detached. Sure, "please" and "thank you" were foreign to his lexicon and friendliness be damned but his demands for upgrades were fairly tame. Vegeta spent his days training in and out, and on the rare occasions that he left the simulator, he kept to himself. The Briefs really didn't mind his presence. Bulma certainly didn't... It was noble of Vegeta to be working so hard to protect her planet, whatever his reasons were. She truly admired his dedication.

Except when it required her to waste a perfect Saturday morning on such tedious work. Taking a good look at her almost amateur work, Bulma sighed. Soldering circuit boards and replacing burnt chips was usual given the heavy usage of the machine. But replacing a whole section of the external shell? What the heck had that man been doing?! Inspecting the scrap that used to be the original plating, Bulma noticed a distinct handprint on a severely bent plate. Had the machine not been so precious to the alien prince, she would've thought it was intentional.

"Damn, who says mechanic outfits can't be hot?"

Bulma rolled her eyes at the cat calling: Yamcha had always sucked at pick up lines and compliments.

"Hey there, I'll be finished in a little bit" answered the scientist, her attention focused on the crooked plate she was trying to rearrange. She didn't even spare a glance at the fighter.

"Need some help with that?" The young man pointed a finger glowing with energy to the piece of metal Bulma seemed unable to fix. "I could melt it with a ki blast and-"

"Don't touch it!" Yamcha stepped back in surprise. "Vegeta hates it when someone else touches his GR"

Yamcha's jaw dropped. His GR? Didn't it belong to her dad?

"Why don't you wait inside? Mom can serve you iced tea or something"

"Oh"

Yamcha waited a few moments expecting Bulma to at least look at him, but she didn't. So he walked into the house feeling like he had been slapped right across his face. What the hell?

Pulling a fresh pair of gloves on, Bulma heard her mother offering Yamcha some lemonade and pastries. After spending hours working on the blasted gravity machine, she had little patience left. She only wanted to put on a skimpy swimsuit and lay in the sun for hours.

"Come on... Come off, fucking piece of- FUCK!" In her attempt to fix the misplaced plate Bulma had almost burnt her hand again. She was good with this sort of work, why was she messing up so bad now? "Son of a fu-!"

Hearing her colorful rant, Yamcha headed straight outside to offer a helping hand again. It was already past noon and he had come here with the sole purpose of seeing Bulma in the bright red bikini she had bought a few days ago.

He had not come here to see Bulma like this, though.

"Thanks, I... I couldn't..." Bulma trailed off, hypnotized by the ease with which the Saiyan manipulated raw energy, melting right through the messed up metal plate. He had been keeping an eye on the repairs from a hidden spot and had become impatient.

Yamcha wasn't sure what pissed him off most: Vegeta doing exactly what he intended to do or Bulma swooning over him.

"I could've done that" barked the scarred fighter.

His girlfriend and the Saiyan didn't spare him a glance and continued with their work, making Yamcha tighten his fists until his knuckles went white. What the hell was going on here?

As the crooked metal was removed, Vegeta stepped back but kept hovering over Bulma, no doubt impatient to have the repairs finished and effectively keeping the weaker fighter at a distance. It was reeeeeally starting to piss Yamcha off. Why was Bulma allowing this?!

"Almost done..." Muttered the scientist as she tinkered with some tools. "Can you do that energy beam thingy again and weld the plate right here?" She pointed at the empty spot on the GR shell. She wanted this to be finished already!

 _Hands off my girl, you bastard!_

"I can do that" replied Yamcha as he reached for the piece of metal.

"I said don't touch it!"

"But-"

"Vegeta, can you sear the plate right here? It'll be ready with that"

Vegeta growled in disgust but picked up the metal, controlling his ki blast perfectly so that he wouldn't melt right through the machine. The hard training had really helped him master and refine his energy control.

"A little to the left..." Instructed Bulma, getting so close to the short man that they were almost touching. "Yes, now that corner... Less heat or you'll melt everything off"

Yamcha felt his blood boil. What the fuck was going on here? Was there something Bulma hadn't told him?! How come she was all over him and he didn't even bat an eye? And what was with that more prideful than usual attitude of the Saiyan?!

"Bulma..." Warned Yamcha without intending to sound so threatening. Or as threatening as he could be anyway.

"Not now Yamcha"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Bulma noticed how dismissive she had sounded. But gods, couldn't he just keep out of this? Before any more feelings of guilt could surge in her chest she saw it clear and sound: Vegeta's unnaturally sharp canines peeking from his lips, fully curved upwards in a satisfied smile as Yamcha seemed about to have an aneurism from pure anger.

It was unmistakable this time: Vegeta was smiling! And damn did he look hot! Without noticing her own actions, Bulma scooted closer to the Saiyan Prince, almost tucking herself under his muscular arm. Up close she could see the sharp features of his face: his pointy nose, his perfectly defined eyebrows, and that strong and sharp jaw, always held so regally high.

 _Damn, he does look like a Prince._

Yamcha stomped back into the kitchen before his control slipped and he engaged in a lost fight with that bastard. Fuck this shit!

Still lost in the rare visage of Vegeta's smile, she didn't miss the low rumble from his throat. Had he actually laughed?!

It was Yamcha's loud slam of the kitchen door that made Bulma's quick mind click: Vegeta had done it again. He did it on purpose to fuck with her boyfriend! The bastard was getting off on Yamcha's anger! But as much as she realized that it was the biggest dick move yet, Bulma could t help the jolt of electricity that coursed through her, shooting right to her core. It was overwhelming and all she could do not to moan was bite her lip. Was it frustration or desire? She couldn't really tell.

"Are you just gonna stand there or will you finish the damn work?" Demanded Vegeta in a low voice, effectively breaking the spell on Bulma.

"Oh" she hurriedly checked the exterior and screwed the bolts in for safety, all under Vegeta's unblinking g scrutiny. Bulma felt suddenly hot and flushed and she was sure the sun had nothing to do with it. The fumble with the tools also made her acutely aware of how wet her panties had become.

"It's ready" she announced, hiding her heated gaze from the strong alien. He had enough ego as it was without knowing the effect he had on her. "Just don't overdo it, let the systems cool every 6 or 8 hours"

Vegeta made that infernally sexy growling sound again and Bulma fled to the kitchen, not even bothering to gather her tools from the ground. _What in the blasted hell is going on with me?_

What she didn't notice was Vegeta's smile again, not so much at her reaction but at Yamcha's face contorted in jealousy, watching every second of the scene Bulma had put on right from the kitchen window.

 _Well isn't this amusing?_ Thought the Saiyan as he ventured into the gravity chamber, ready to pound in the hours of training he had already missed that day.


End file.
